Reviews heeded and extra credit owed to 'pro patria mori' who gave me the necessary nudge to get this up! :-P
Thank you to those who take time to leave a comment... I'm shall do my best to be speedier and fingers crossed, give you an update tomorrow. xx
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The dimming weather meant the park was populated only by a few dedicated joggers, each oblivious to anything other than what blurred from their ear phones.
A little cold, the last of the day's warmth had drained from the scarlet evening sky. In its place rolled smoky dense cloud which ominously drifted overhead, threatening any moment to spill its load.
Alone, no one else but Ruth sat just to sit.
Safely in her pocket laid Harry's photos and cash, transformed into a small package of international documents.
Ruth glanced discreetly at her watch, then back at her book. He was late. Pretending to read and then re-read the page, she'd still no better idea what it offered and if asked wouldn't have even been able to confidently state its language, her nerves were too frayed and her emotions too on edge to notice.
Looking up to the indecisive heavens and remembering her umbrella lay forgotten on her desk, Ruth silently cursed the British summer and wished Harry had considered somewhere a little more sheltered.
After some minutes of painfully forcing her eyes across the same line of her book, her ears pricked with interest, someone was approaching.
Noting the stranger's athletic pace and appearance, Ruth's anticipation quickly wilted. Their dark hoody turned up against the growing chill of the evening air, the jogger's lone rhythmic stride rolled steady in beat with her heart.
Ruth sighed, "Ruddy joggers."
As the runner neared to pass, his unwelcome footsteps grew harder and his intrusive thrashed breathing grew louder.
Head buried in her book, it was with a frown Ruth realised the footsteps were slowing, and was with a twinge of unease that she heard them pull to a halt just to the side of her bench.
Feeling forced to register the person, who's violent billows of air were difficult to ignore, it was with irritation, Ruth finally looked up.
Pulling his hood from his head, Ruth's jaw dropped as she took in Harry's beetroot flushed face and the crystal beads of sweat that sheened his forehead.
Trainers, blue shorts and a sweat-washed hoody, he was a different man.
Ruth quietly gasped, "What's happened?"
Thighs burning and his throat feeling as though he'd inhaled shards of splinted glass, Harry collapsed next to her on the bench. His hair remained damp and ruffled with beads of sweat starting to run the side of his jaw. Hanging his head back and looking to the sky, he tried to grasp enough breath to speak. "What?" He wheezed and wiped his arm across his face. "Oh… this?" he panted as he tugged at his jumper and glanced over at her, "... I'm less recognisable than in a suit."
With amused disbelief, Ruth forced her gaze to casually turn away across the park and tried to bite down her smile. "You are. Trust me, even I wouldn't, didn't, guess."
Having recovered a little he cleared his throat, "Well then," and with a flicker of smugness smiled as he lent forwards to re-tie his laces, "I was right."
Still amused she conceded, "Yes, but you do look like you're about to drop dead from it." Snatching a glimpse from the corner of her eye, Ruth caught Harry's confused squint and explained, "You're dripping Harry."
Harry's pride was instantly a little affronted by the observed deficiency in his fitness. Raking his fingers through his damp chestnut hair he slouched back next to her, retaliating with a rasp, "Yes well, I thought I'd be more convincing as a jogger if I actually did jog Ruth."
Not missing a beat, "Through what, The Thames?"
Brow arched, he couldn't help but look directly at her, a smattering of amused offense in his complexion his heart lifted at witnessing her equally upturned lips. The dark mischief clear in her eyes broke them both into muffled grins.
"Touché" He softly settled. Harry continued, "Thought you'd be pleased. I'm taking better care of myself, at your suggestion."
With a smirk Ruth looked back across the park, "Well I suggest you don't have a heart attack whilst you're at it."
Their banter lifted Harry's face into a broadening smile. It felt good after the past weeks of depression but it was to be short lived. Time, as ever, was short and there was business to attend. He paused, hesitant in quashing a rare moment of cheer between them, ultimately he had no choice, "Ruth did you, did you manage to take care of… things?" He trailed off.
Just a fraction of movement, but enough for his sharp eyes to detect, he spotted her shoulders deflate. Her gaze remained off in the distance, "Yeah… It's all sorted."
"Good."
There was a silence, Ruth bit her lip, and her face turned to his, tentatively she sought some reassurance, "You said it was a last resort?"
Harry blew a gentle breath from his pursed lips. So far the trial was heading in one direction and although he hoped for the best in all honesty the probable reality was bleak. With a broken sad smile he curved his head to face her and catching Ruth's eyes spoke softly, "My very last."
With a curt nod Ruth broke from his eyes and both walked their eyes outwards to the park. Ruth stomach turned, conscious of her own denial, this all felt so wrong yet what other choice did she have?
In the settling silence Ruth considered how best to slip him the parcel.
During her contemplation she threw Harry a slide glance. With surprise and alarm she witnessed a transformation in Harry's features. His muscles had fixed ridged and his breathing had drawn down to a deadly slow wisp. Snapped far off and intently scanning the far edge of park, his narrowed eyes remained unblinking and cold in their search.
Trepidation grew. Her body like his, stiffened as her blood ran cool. A moment passed, Ruth wondered what horror was about to be unleashed, in hushed whisper, she prompted him, "Harry?" He remained lost to her, her hand reached and settled on his knee, squeezing it, she repeated more firmly, "Harry?".
The warmth of her skin melting through his chilling legs brought him back to her. He blinked, and then rapidly blinked again. Just as quickly as he'd been lost, he restored himself to practised ease. Resting his hand over hers his face lightened and he apologised, "Sorry."
"What is it?" She breathed with caution.
"Nothing" he replied confidently, "Just paranoia playing games."
Ruth was too disturbed to appreciate Harry's Hand on hers. "Right," she responded, obviously unconvinced and still weary.
Ruth trusted his instincts, if Harry was on edge there usually was a justified reason. The fact he wasn't telling her what it was, was neither here nor there, she was still unnerved.
Her mind turned back to the small bundle she still had poking her in the ribs.
Field-craft had never been her forte but if someone was watching them then she didn't want to let them spot her handing him his last life line.
Her face crumpled and she bit her lip as she decided on the simplest plan of action, 'Oh god' She thought… deliberately bare of emotion, Ruth stated her warning plainly...
"Harry," His expression twitched with interest, "Harry, I'm going to kiss you..."
tbc ...
